There were only eight games left in the regular season. After that, it was time for the Southern Conference playoffs.
Coach McKillop knew what time it was—rest time.
He didn't say much, he just started cutting Lin Yi and Steph's minutes down. No need to run them into the ground.
"Fitness matters more than anything right now," he told the team. "We need our guys fresh for March."
And honestly, the teams they were playing? Not exactly powerhouses.
So Lin Yi decided it was a good time to experiment—and started launching ultra-deep threes, well behind the college line.
And yeah, it worked.
Over those eight games, he hit eleven bombs from way downtown—NBA range or deeper. Each one helped him upgrade his Limitless Range badge, which was exactly what he needed.
Coach McKillop didn't even complain about the shot selection. If it had been anyone else, maybe. But with Lin?
"Eh, if it goes in, it's a good shot."
Lin wasn't messing around. He knew this was his chance. The NCAA three-point line was shorter than the NBA's. So, if he could finish this badge now, he'd save himself the headache later.
Once he got to the league, any shots from that distance would be even harder.
And let's be real—Lin was now the guy for Davidson. He could take pretty much any shot and no one would question it.
These last few games didn't matter much in the standings. It was more about padding stats and keeping the rhythm.
So, game after game, you'd see the same thing:
Steph sets a screen, Lin pops out—way beyond the arc. Steph hits him. Lin rises and fires. Splash.
Or sometimes Lin would just walk it up, cross half-court, and casually launch one from deep while defenders stood frozen.
"He trying to prove he's got NBA range?" one scout muttered, watching him drop another missile from the logo.
It wasn't a bad question. A lot of college shooters struggle when they hit the NBA because of the deeper line. But Lin?
He was showing that range wasn't gonna be a problem.
Curry had done the same thing in college—dudes knew he had crazy range. Lin was trying to make the same case.
Sure, his three-point percentage dipped a bit—maybe 3%—but Lin didn't care.
"This is the window," he told himself. "If I don't knock this out now, there won't be time during March Madness."
And finally, after the last regular season game, a message popped up in front of his eyes:
Congrats! You've unlocked the Bronze Limitless Range Badge.
A shiny animation flashed across his vision. Lin grinned.
Now, all five of his core badges—each tied to a different position—were finally bronze.
Then it hit him—whoa.
Suddenly, his mind and body were flooded with new muscle memory, all related to shooting deep threes. He could feel the difference. The rhythm, the mechanics, the confidence—it was all sharper now.
Each badge lined up like this:
Center:Dream Shake (For the post)
Power Forward:Rebounding Maniac (For rebounding)
Small Forward:Ankle Terminator (For isolation)
Shooting Guard:Tough Shotmaker
Point Guard:Limitless Range
Then came another message:
All five badges eligible for Silver upgrade.
Let's go.
To level them up again, he just had to do the same stuff—but this time, at NBA-level competition.
Well… four of the five, at least.
Limitless Range, Tough Shotmaker, Dream Shake, and Rebounding Maniac—those had to be done against real NBA-caliber players.
But the Ankle Terminator badge?
That one had a weird condition: score 300 points one-on-one against an elite opponent… designated by the system.
"Huh… wait. Not an elite defender but an opponent. Hmm, is Steph Curry considered an elite opponent now?" Lin asked the system.
Scanning...
**Confirmed. Steph Curry qualifies as elite foa r badge upgrade. **
Lin smirked. Jackpot.
Steph was an NBA-level talent already—heck, he was gonna be the main man for the Warriors soon.
If Lin could go one-on-one with him and drop 300 points over time? That badge was his.
So guess what happened next?
Steph got pulled into one-on-one matchups every day.
"Bro… why am I the test dummy for your crossovers ?" Steph asked, deadpan, after getting crossed for the third time in a row.
"This is character development," Lin replied, straight-faced. "For both of us."
Two days later, it happened:
Congrats! You've unlocked the Silver 'Ankle Terminator' Badge
Immediately, Lin felt it—his dribbling instincts got sharper. His rhythm- smoother. Moves came more naturally.
If we're just talking handles, Lin was now NBA-ready.
Add that to his size and athleticism
In the NCAA? He was a nightmare matchup.
No big could stay in front of him. And if they did, he'd just rise over them anyway.
"Man… this playstyle's exhausting," Lin groaned after a scrimmage. "Got to keep up the grind in the gym"
Still, one thing made him smile—his bounce had improved. That +1 Jump talent from earlier?
Yeah, it showed.
He got assistant coach Jennings to run some tests again. And sure enough—Lin's vertical had gone up 3 centimeters.
Jennings was stunned. "That's nuts. Most players train for months just to get that kind of improvement."
Lin just shrugged. "Guess I'm built different."
Right before the playoffs, he stood 216.5 cm tall, weighing in at 113.8 kg.
"Time to storm into March Madness!" McKillop shouted, rallying the squad.
And Lin?
He just grinned, ready to take over the tournament.